


For My Life Still Ahead (Pity Me)

by yanderekirklandchan



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 80s Era, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Divorce, Drug Use, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Smut, Freddie Mercury Lives, M/M, Multi, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 07:43:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17524649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanderekirklandchan/pseuds/yanderekirklandchan
Summary: Brian May had become an old man with many regrets. No matter how hard he tried to make the most of his life, there were too many tragedies set in stone. He wished countless times that he could go back and change things but when he found himself I'm the past he realised that maybe fixing things is more complicated than simply having the opportunity.





	For My Life Still Ahead (Pity Me)

Brian sat numbly as he stared into the depths of the fire. Well, it wasn’t really a fire, it was an empty fireplace with a simple large screen showing a video of a crackling fire. He doubted that the fire place even worked. TV screens in fireplaces like the real thing was some kind of myth, what had the future come to? He personally thought it was a waste of electricity, the world was crying for help yet people still insisted on bleeding it dry in little indulgences. His daughters told him to relax and lighten up, that it was pretty and he should leave it like that. They sighed fondly, telling him that it was no wonder that he was always so down if he let something as little as a fireplace upset him. He supposed they were right. He was an old, bitter man who couldn’t possibly understand what the world had come to. Blimey, how had that happened? Was this how every old man and woman he’d passed in the street felt? He felt far too young to be old and yet he felt too worn and weary to be anything but old. He sighed again, smiling faintly; his daughters were right, he did over think things.

He’d been in a dark mood ever since the interview he’d had to do that day. He remembered now why he’d refused to do interviews so very long ago. It was the purpose of an interviewer to prey on you, to pick the flesh from your bones while you sit willingly and give them a knife and fork. He was probably being unfair when he thought about it. Of course, there were awful interviewers around. He’d watched that YouTube video of Robert Downey Jr, shocking! He’d had his fair share of dick questions too but today he was sure there had been no intended malice. He should have been used to it by now, the questions about Freddie. He’d been asked them enough over the years. No matter what he did, campaign for badgers, do more research, do another charity project, the questions were all about Queen. Naturally. He never expected it to be any other way, of course, but that didn’t mean that he was immune to the waves of painful nostalgia that would hit him and suspend him in their currents for the rest of the day.

He could almost handle the Queen questions. After all, what old man didn’t look back on days gone by with a smile and tearful eyes? But as it always had, for the last five decades, talk of Queen quickly morphed into talk of Freddie. That made his chest ache irreversibly but he wouldn’t stop it for the world. Freddie was a magnificent man who led a magnificent life, his name should be whispered for centuries to come. But why did it always have to come to his death? Why did no one ever care about their triumphs, only their darkest hour? Why did every damned interview end with an ‘I’m sorry for your loss'? Brian let out a shuddered breath, hand running over his face. Even his face had changed, his skin growing softer and frailer, stress had long since turned his hair white. He felt every year so distinctly. It was funny to look at a photo of yourself in a shop window or a restaurant wall, to remember living the moment and yet to now have it out of reach forever. If he thought about, he realised that he couldn’t even remember what colour the some black and white patches represented.

The door of the hotel bathroom swung open, his gorgeous wife walking out in an immaculate shimmery black dress, looking every bit the beauty he’d met over thirty years ago. Thirty years? Blimey, that was a long time. Still, he hadn’t been a young man even then. She smiled at him as she finished putting in a large gold hoop earing.  
“You know, I really don’t know why I go to these things, dear.” She said, sitting on the edge of the bed to slip on some glittery designer shoes that matched her dress “Really, they lost their charm years ago, almost as long ago as I lost mine!”  
Brian huffed a soft laugh, leaning forward to kiss her cheek lightly “Lost your charm? Nonsense, dear, you’re every bit as charming as you’ve ever been. More, even. And absolutely beautiful.” He knew that meant every word.  
Anita snorted “Not likely, but thank you, love.” She flicked a scarf over her shoulder, looking casually like a most distinguished model “I’m old and grey, Bri. No one ever looks my way, I’m lucky that I trapped you before my looks faded.”

“Trapped me? I shamelessly clung to you all this time and we both know it.” The easy familiarity of their exchange carried Brian along in the flow, not letting him stop long enough to get sad again.  
She laughed from over by the mirror, where she was applying some makeup, the pretty laugh that Brian adored. Finally, she finished fiddling with clothes and accessories and turned to look at him. The easy smile fell from her face and she walked over to the bed in a few strides, sitting beside him again.  
She placed a gentle hand on his cheek, “Oh Brian, whatever is the matter?” she said in a soft, worried voice.  
He gave her a small, sheepish smile “I’m fine, Anita! I promise. Just... Just tired. It’s been a long day.”  
She continued to look at him with unwavering concerned eyes “Bri...” she said softly, sadly, before sighing “That’s it, I’m not going!”

He blinked in surprise “What? Nita, you don’t have to do that! I’m fine, I swear. I’m just going to watch some TV, maybe read, and go to bed. You’ll be back before I wake, there’s no point in you staying on my account.”  
She shook her head, folding her arms “No, Brian, I refuse to leave you alone when you’re in one of your moods. I know how you get, it’s a thousand times worse if you’re by yourself.”  
He worried his lip between his teeth and looked over to her “Annie, you know you’ll regret it if you don’t go.”  
“I’ll regret it more,” she said firmly “If I leave you alone all evening, knowing you’re hurting.”  
Brian stayed silent, not knowing what to say to convince her to go. He knew that, despite what’s he might say, Anita had been looking forward to this. He didn’t want a little stupid self pity to make her miss out on that.

After a moment of silence, Anita let out a huffed breath, encircling Brian with an arm. He could smell the familiar perfume she loved. She had many expensive and lavish perfumes but every time she tried to experiment she always used that slightly cheaper, familiar and beloved scent Brian had grown to associate with her.  
“Alright, Brian, I’ll go. But you take care of yourself or I swear you’ll have hell to pay when I get home, mister!” she fixed him with a half amused, half serious look.  
His lips quirked up in a smile “Yes, ma'am.” He saluted.  
Anita chuckled and stood up, picking up her bag “I’ll go call on Roger’s room on the way out.”  
Brian’s face crinkled up in confusion “Roger’s room? Why are you calling on him?” he asked suspiciously.  
“Because,” she dragged out the word “I’m not leaving you alone when you’re in a mood, like I said.” She tapped his nose lightly as he pouted and sighed.

“Anita, there’s no reason why we have to bother Roger!” He exclaimed, though he knew from the look on her face that his wife had decided.  
“Oh come on, Brian. Just accept that this is going to happen. Besides,” She slung her bag over a shoulder “You know that Roger gets lonely. He just doesn’t admit it.” She shook her head incredulously “You boys, I don’t know how you manage to function. You’re wrecks, the both of you.”  
“I have no say in this, do I?” he said with a fond smile.  
“None at all.” She grinned.  
*******  
“So... Anita’s out then?” Roger shifted uncomfortably on the hotel sofa, looking across at Brian with a slightly lost look. He’d been eager to come over, knocking on the door mere minutes after Anita had left. But now, he seemed embarrassed by his enthusiasm. Brian smiled fondly, despite the funk he’d found himself in.  
“Yeah. Some old friends of here were going to the gala and invited her since she was in the area. I was invited to go too but decided against it, she’d probably have more fun free from me trailing around after her.”  
Roger nodded “Cool.”  
Brian chuckled, Roger was looking at him like he was a time bomb. He didn’t know what Anita said but Roger looked like he was afraid that he’d spontaneously combust on his watch and he’d end up blamed for it. He reached over the side of the bed for the remote, turning the TV on though he was sure neither of them actually wanted to watch it. The low hum of words was soothing in the silence.

Roger shifted so he was sitting beside Brian on the bed, kicking his shoes off before he climbed on.  
“So what’s gotten you so down?” Roger asked lightly, though there was deep concern evident in his eyes.  
Brian sighed and shrugged flippantly “Nothing, I’m fine.” He repeated for the umpteenth time.  
Roger snorted “Careful, Bri, or that’ll become your catch phrase. Was it the interviewers? I bet it was the interviewers. Those fucking bastards. Brian, you tell me who it was and I swear I’ll o right in there and sue their arses. Fuck it, I’ll sue the company.”  
“That’s alright, Rog!” Brian said quickly, before his friend could assemble any armies “I just...” he sighed, cutting off his words. He scratched his arm absentmindedly, perhaps a little too hard if the look Roger shot him was anything to go by.

“I just have so many regrets, you know?” he finished “I’ve done nothing but wrong in my life. So many bad decisions... Why did I...? Why do I...?” he sighed, covering his face with his hands and trying to ward off the dark storm tormenting him.  
Roger raised an eyebrow, huffing an incredulous laugh “You? Mr ‘I save badgers before breakfast’? Brian, you’ve done plenty of good things. And the bad... They’re not as bad as they seem if you just have a little break, some fresh air then think of it again.”  
Brian sighed and rolled onto his side, looking up at Roger “There’s too much wrong. How can it ever be okay? How can we just... just move on and be okay?” he said, ashamed of how tearful he sounded “The worst part is that there’s nothing I can ever do, no matter how hard I try or how much I regret it, to fix it. It’s forever like this, I can never make it better.”

Brian screwed his eyes shut in pain. He didn’t say what he meant by his words, he didn’t have to; Roger knew him too well. Beside, he couldn’t say it if he tried. It would hurt too much. There was the elephant forever in the room, Freddie. Just... Everything about Freddie. Why had they ever fought? How dare he waste precious seconds of his friend’s life fighting? Why had he ever said no to a dinner invite or turned in for bed early or sat alone writing when he could have been with his beloved friend? And why the hell had he never told Freddie just how much he meant to him? Then there was his marriage, his first marriage. What had he been thinking? Getting married when he knew very well that he was going to be touring all the time, it’d already put so much strain on their relationship before marriage, what had he been thinking? Well, everyone had done it, it was expected. That wasn’t good enough.

He was an awful husband, an awful father. His children loved him and forgave him, he’d ever forgive himself. Anita... Oh, his beautiful dearest Anita. His marriage with her was amazing, even so many years down the line. But there was always that dark cloud, the secret shame that was not so secret anymore. When was anything in his life? He’d cheated on his wife with her. Of course, they’d already split in all but law by then but that didn’t make it any better. He’d hurt Chrissy, he’d hurt his children, he’d hurt Anita. There was oh so much more, so very much more. There was never an end to bad things, he’d Iived a long life and that meant many regrets.  
Roger looked down at him with sad, understanding eyes “I know, Bri, I know.” He said softly, shuffling over to curl up against his side “You mustn’t worry yourself over these things, though. Like you said, there’s nothing anyone can do to change the past. All you’re going to do is make yourself unwell. You’re not a bad person, Brian, not by a long shot. You’re one of the best people I know, the best, even. Life’s just too long not to go wrong, everyone ends up feeling this way.”  
Brian sighed and opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling “I know... It’s just not fair. Why did it end up like this?”  
Roger shook his head “It is unfair. I don’t... I don’t know, Bri.”

They both lay in silence for a moment, the lull of the TV and their breaths the only thing filling the silence. After a moment, Roger stood, clapping his hands together.  
“Enough of this bullshit, let’s have some drinks!”  
Brian smiled softly, rolling onto his side to watch him “I don’t have any drinks.”  
Roger waved him off “I have some, obviously. Look.” He put down a big heavy bottle with a thump.  
Brian frowned suspiciously at the thing “Rog... That doesn’t look like you bought it from a supermarket. It doesn’t even have a label!”  
“Yeah, I got it from this market stall. A psychic was trying to pull bull on me and wouldn’t go away so I decided to buy something to just get left alone, y'know? Anyway, it looked like alcohol so I was obviously interested. She said it’d ‘take all your pains away', of course I bloody bought it. Sounds like my kind of shit.”

Brian’s concern was higher if anything “Roger... That sounds like it could be drugs.”  
Roger rolled his eyes “You worry too much. And anyway, if it’s drugs then I got a bargain and can genuinely tell the police I was unaware of it! But I’m sure it’s fine.” He poured a glass “It looks like wine,” he sniffed it “It smells like wine,” he sipped it “It tastes like wine. Brian, it’s just mulled wine. Do you want some or not?”  
Brian sighed in defeat “Oh go on, then.”  
In a few seconds Brian found a glass in his hand.  
“You’re a bad influence, as always.” He said with a grin.  
Roger shamelessly grinned back “Moi? Never. Hey, I’m a responsible person, I’ll have you know. I’m leaving the rest of the bottle for Anita and everything so we don’t et drunk just buzzed.”  
“I’m sorry for doubting you, saint Roger.” Brian chuckled.  
He sighed and started to drink, he could really do with being a little less sober.  
*******  
The door quietly opened and closed, causing Brian to look over at it tiredly. Beside him, Roger breathed softly, curled up on his side as he slept. Anita poked her head though the door and smiled.  
“You’re still up?” she asked in a soft voice, noticing Roger’s sleeping form.  
Brian nodded “Somehow, I couldn’t sleep. I thought I could, I was so tired but...” he shrugged.  
Anita gave him an empathetic look “I’ve been there, dear.” She took off her shoes, then her necklace, placing it on the table. She frowned “What’s this thing?” she asked, picking up Roger’s drink.  
“Some cheap wine Rog bought from a con lady.” Brian explained.  
“Did he buy it half empty?” she said, fixing him with a joking stern look. She chuckles and took a small sip “Hm... That’s certainly interesting.”  
“Awful, you mean.” Brian said with a chuckle “You can say it, he’s sleeping.”  
Anita laughed “I’m not going to oppose that, it is awful. It tastes... Very home made, shall I say?”  
She smiled and walked over to the bed “Budge over a bit, will you dear?”  
He obediently shuffled over “You’re sleeping in your clothes?”  
She shrugged “I’m tired and my husband is rich, he’ll buy me some new ones.” She joked. She smiled up at him, curling up against his side with her arms wrapped around him. “Get some sleep, my love. Just close your eyes and stop thinking about things, you always keep yourself awake thinking about things.” She kissed him gently “You’ll feel better in the morning.” She leant over and turned the bedside lamp off.  
*******  
Brian stared at the ceiling, barely able to make out the light there in the dark. His eyes flicked over to the digital clock on the bedside. 02:34. Not his worst ever but not good either. He sighed and kept his eyes closed, though that strategy hadn’t been doing him much good for the last few hours. Falling asleep was a slow process, it always was. His mind, undistracted, travelled to dark places it dared not go when he was awake. Their fighting. That was the chain that suffocates him that night. ‘The chain he’d forged in life', he snorted, he was worse than Scrooge. ‘Oh, what a ponderous chain'. What hurt him the most were those fights, the seconds they wasted unforgivably. Not only were they not enjoying each others' company and what they had they were actively hurting each other. It’d been a mess. They were such close friends but there came times when he genuinely didn’t believe a soul would care if he died. They used to fuss over little colds and paper cuts but then they were the ones wielding the knife, cutting deeper than anyone else could because they knew just where to hit. How had it come to that? fell asleep with Freddie’s face and far too many memories replaying like a film. He was sure he’d have nightmares.

If only he could start anew. But no, what was done was done and the tragedies were set in stone. No one could do anything about it, it was out of reach.


End file.
